


Good boy

by Addie_D_123



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blood Drinking, Demon Dean Winchester, Dubious Consent, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, M/M, Triggers, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-04
Updated: 2014-06-04
Packaged: 2018-02-03 10:03:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1740635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Addie_D_123/pseuds/Addie_D_123
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean has so many new ways to take care of his little brother.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Good boy

**Author's Note:**

> This is a lot darker than the stuff I usually write. But it feels good to get it out.

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"Dean, please!"

Sam chokes the words out between gags, his mouth filling with salt water again.

“Oh, do I get to be Dean again?” The demon is at Sam’s back, his arms wrapped tightly around him. He rests his chin on his shoulder. “That’s cute, Sammy. I thought I was gonna be ‘it’ from now on.”

Dean tightens his grip around Sam’s middle and lifts him back in the air with ease. Shaking him back and forth violently like a wild dog with a fresh kill.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, Deeeaaaan. Dean!”

He drops him suddenly, sending Sam stumbling forward to his knees. His stomach churns angrily and he’s just so full it hurts. With one last body wrenching jerk he braces himself on all fours, emptying everything inside him onto the concrete floor. The unbelievably large pool of red and black spreads in front of him. Fresh blood mixed with older congealed clots from that morning. Sam’s sobs are only interrupted by the steady stream of apologies and whimpers.

And Dean chuckles as he crouches down to thread his fingers through Sam’s sweat damp hair. Sam looks up to meet his eyes but it’s all wrong. Dean’s trademark smirk replaced by a cruel twist of his lips as he bats his black eyes in mock innocence.

“Oh no, Sammy, looks like somebody made a mess.”

“I’ll clean it up, Dean, just let me…”

His fingers tangle in Sam’s hair painfully as he grabs a handful to keep him in place. Slowly, he pushes Sam’s face down towards the mess, pressing his nose into the mixture of blood and sick.

“What did I say would happen if you didn’t finish your supper, Sammy?”

Sam moans softly, watching his tears fall, little drops in an ocean of red. His tongue slowly snakes out of his mouth, just touching the still warm contents of his stomach. He pauses to take a long, shaky breath before responding.

“I won’t get any dessert.”

Sam laps up the blood, bitter with bile and salty with tears. Dean pets his head lovingly now, cooing words of encouragement and praise.

“That’s it, Sammy. That’s my good boy.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

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End file.
